Star Trek: Revisited (Season 3)
by VintageTorquoise
Summary: What if some episodes panned out differently? What if somebody else wrote them? This series will focus on developing an AU from various PODs (Points-of-Departure) while delving a little bit more into Star Trek lore. MOST RECENT: "Ensigns of Command", 3x02. The Enterprise finds itself caught in the final years of the Federation-Cardassian War.
1. 3x01 Evolution

**Author's Note** : For all readers, bear in mind this is meant to be a possible alternate timeline of events in the series. To me, though, it's more an experiment in "cause and effect". It won't follow the series' episodes exactly, but I thought it would be interesting to see more "what if's" for many of the episodes. Just don't bite my head off if you prefer the original episode. xD

This is, admittedly, more for my own entertainment than anything, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to share. Enjoy! ^^

Oh, and a lot of this involves deconstructing some aspects of the continuity and explaining things left unanswered in the show. The OC in this chapter will be the only one, but he won't be centric to every episode from here on out. Actually, I hope to write some more significant roles for various background characters in the series. That, and I'd like to develop some recurring guest characters a bit more too. Eh, we'll see how it all pans out. It should be fun to work out, if nothing else!

* * *

"Captain's Log, Stardate 43125.8. We have entered a spectacular binary star system in the Kavis Alpha sector on a most critical mission of astrophysical research. Our eminent guest, Dr. Paul Stubbs, will attempt to study the decay of neutronium expelled at relativistic speeds from a massive stellar explosion which will occur here in a matter of hours."

Riker stared out the viewscreen at the beautiful red giant the Enterprise was now orbiting. He stood in front of the viewscreen while Picard went down to transporter room one to greet their guest. The USS Venture, an Excelsior-class ship, warped out of the system moments after making sure Dr. Stubbs had beamed over safely. He noticed something missing out the corner of his eye though. An ensign sat at the conn, holding the ship steady in low orbit.

With a sigh, Riker pulled his uniform shirt down while taking a few steps toward the screen. When he was standing a good distance from the chair he always felt so small in, he tapped his comm badge. "Riker to Ensign Crusher." No answer. "Ensign Crusher, please respond." Again, silence. With a sigh, he muttered under his breath, "Probably forgot to set his alarm again."

"Don't worry, sir," responded Nelson Grey, the ship's Chief Science Officer. He'd only been assigned recently, rather by chance. But in the month he'd been aboard, he had a chance to get to know young Wesley Crusher and teach him a thing or two about the sciences. "He's probably just worn out from working on the project I showed him yesterday."

With one last, long look at his monitor, he entered the turbolift and had it take him to deck ten. Once the turbolift doors opened again, he followed the corridor to the science lab where he last saw Wesley. When the doors opened, he found Wesley exactly where he thought the boy would be: asleep at a desk next to several pieces of scientific equipment.

"Time to wake up!" He clapped his hands, which almost immediately woke Wes, who seemed to just realize that he'd fallen asleep while working on an experiment. "You're late for your shift. Seems like Commander Riker's in a testy mood."

"Uh, right," Wesley answered in a groggy voice. "I'll be right there."

Without bothering to double-check his equipment, he stood and groggily carried himself out into the hallway beyond. As Wesley left, however, Nelson had a good look at the experiment Wesley had been performing the night before. Sure enough, it was the exact same project he'd shown the young prodigy a week ago. But one thing certainly looked out of place. It was a container that had been left open.

Knowing what it could mean if it remained open for long, Nelson quickly replaced the lid and took a deep breath, eyeing the door Wesley had just passed through. This could either be a good day... or a very bad one.

* * *

A slightly disheveled man in his sixties wearing casual clothes closely observed the viewscreen with a sparkle in his eye. His hands behind him, he seemed confident in what they were about to accomplish. Everybody knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. They were about to witness the final hours of a star that was about to die. When it did, the effect was theorized to be instantaneous: a massive stellar explosion followed by the formation of a black hole.

"Ensign, our position," Riker ordered of young Wesley as he took his seat.

"Approaching ten million kilometers from the neutron star," Wesley acknowledged.

"Slow to one third impulse power."

As the ship began to slow, Nelson watched the data streaming in from a console along the back wall behind Worf. He observed his monitor intently, clearly excited to see what kind of data he could collect on the phenomenon.

Dr. Stubbs said something that would've gone unheard to the officers behind tactical, but then his voice rose as his anticipation grew. "Over and over again, the intense gravitational pull of the little neutron star sucks up the star material from the red giant, and it builds up on the surface until it explodes... every one hundred and ninety six years. Like clockwork. And it is but eighteen hours away."

"Eighteen hours, seven minutes and..." As Data called out the numbers, Nelson followed them. The timer was counting down on his display. "Ten seconds, Doctor."

Finally, Captain Jean-Luc Picard entered the bridge from his ready room. He looked fairly tired, but determined nonetheless. Nelson hardly noticed, his eyes still glued to his station.

"Doctor Stubbs, if you want to make a final inspection of the unit..."

"Captain, I've been inspecting the egg for twenty years. You may lay it when ready."

A brief moment later, and Nelson heard Picard's voice again. "Begin launch sequence."

"Shuttle Bay Two, stand-by to launch the, uh... egg," Riker said with some amusement.

"Standing by, Commander," a voice responded over the comm.

"Do you know how long the experiment will last, Wesley?" Dr. Stubbs asked as if he didn't expect Wesley to answer with the same level of detail as Data.

"One billionth of a second."

"Now, how would you know that?" Stubbs glanced at him.

"When I heard we were going to be part of your experiment, I read all your published works."

As Stubbs reacted with surprise, Riker ordered, "Begin pre-launch sequence."

"Five minutes to launch site," Data reported.

Suddenly, the ship jolted sharply. Thanks in no small part to the fact he was gripping his console in anticipation, Nelson managed to keep his footing. The rest of the crew were equally secure, either for the same reasons or because they were sitting down. Doctor Stubbs, however, ended up flung across the room.

"Stabilize!" Picard ordered, but Wesley claimed controls weren't responding.

"Engineering, what the hell is going on?!" Riker practically shouted.

"Checking for failure of inertial dampeners," Geordi's voice called out over the comm system. "Instruments say they're working."

As the rumbling continued, the viewscreen showed the arc of fire getting closer.

"Captain," Worf exclaimed as he checked the sensors. "We're heading straight into the path of that stellar matter."

"Shields up," Picard ordered, but Worf answered that the shields wouldn't respond.

"Impact thirty seconds," Data noted in his usual emotionless voice.

"Go to manual override to raise shields."

Worf did as commanded, though the shaking continued. "Shields are rising."

The inertial dampeners refused to work despite Geordi's attempt to reset them. Finally, however, Picard's order to reverse the impulse engines began to stabilize them. Now that it didn't feel like a fissure would tear open in the floor, Nelson and the rest of the bridge crew were able to collect themselves and focus on the matter at hand.

"Commander Data, check all systems," Riker ordered of the Chief of Operations, before he stood and went to help Dr. Stubbs. "Medical personnel to the bridge."

"All systems functioning normally again," Data observed aloud.

"Computer," Picard addressed the ship, which responded with a series of beeps. "Explanation for control malfunction."

"No computer malfunction has been recorded."

With eyes narrowed, Picard looked at Riker while Nelson watched from the back. Although he didn't know what had caused the malfunctions, he had a hypothesis. A hypothesis he'd have to test before things got worse.

* * *

Wesley walked briskly down a corridor, as if he too put two and two together. What he didn't expect was to hear Nelson call out to him from behind. By the time the CSO caught up, he decided it best not to waste time standing there in the middle of the hall discussing the situation with him. "Nelson," Wesley uttered in surprise as he started for the door to the primary science lab. "Did you figure out what went wrong?"

"I know Data and Geordi are running a check on all systems now," Nelson confirmed as he matched Wesley's fast pace. "But I only have a hypothesis."

Before Wesley could respond, he nearly bumped into a trio of other teenagers: two girls and one boy all dressed up in the strangest of ski gear.

"Hey Wesley," the boy, one Nelson knew as Eric, greeted him. He only offered Nelson a brief nod in acknowledgement, but didn't address him directly. Nelson helped run the school for older children on board, specifically teaching any subjects related to the sciences, though his specialty happened to be quantum physics and cybernetics... the main reason why Starfleet felt they had to assign him to the ship that first encountered the Borg. "You need some work on your right turns, y'know."

"Did you finish your project for the science fair coming up next week, Eric?" Nelson interjected, his arms crossed behind him. "You've only got five more days."

"Y-yeah," Eric stuttered when Nelson forced a confrontation. The CSO certainly didn't beat around the bush, so to speak. "We just thought we'd take a break is all."

"Skiing?" Nelson deduced with an amused look.

"In Switzerland," confirmed Annette, one of the girls who kept glancing awkwardly in Wesley's direction. Nelson found himself equally bemused by her behavior and decided to take a step back and face Wesley, who looked at him with uncertainty.

"Well, you've needed a vacation for some time, Wes." Nelson nodded subtly at the entourage of kids who managed to get along well enough with Wesley. That said, Eric might have been the only one. At least half the other students were difficult on Wesley, treating him rather poorly because of his passion for science. He crossed his arms. "Why don't you have your day in the shade? Geordi and I can handle the rest of the investigation."

At first, Wesley felt reticent as he looked between Nelson and his school friends. But knowing that Nelson could be stubborn, he gave in with a sigh. "Alright."

"Hey, that's great!" Eric exclaimed, catching Wesley's attention. Before they could continue on their merry way, Nelson offered a smile and stepped away.

Now he could return to the science lab and check on Wesley's latest project.

* * *

"We're analyzing the engineering systems data, Captain." Geordi spoke over the comm. "So far, nothing unusual in the computer log for that time period."

"Run a level one diagnostic series," Picard's voice echoed. "We need a computer that's one-hundred percent for Doctor Stubbs' experiment."

"Right," Geordi acknowledged as Picard signed out. Without a second thought, he got to work. His department would be burning the midnight oil on this one.

"Commander La Forge." Although he didn't exactly jump at the unexpected voice, Geordi had to brace himself and glance back over his shoulder at the familiar officer standing by the console with a grim look on his face.

"Lieutenant Grey." Geordi let out a sigh as he straightened up and started walking briskly across Engineering, silently gesturing for a few of his staff to meet him around the Master Systems Display console in the center of the main entryway. "What can I do for you?"

"I may know what's causing the computer malfunctions."

"Really?" That caught Geordi's attention, even as he stopped by the table and several of his officers started taking up positions on either side. "What have you found out?"

"I believe that nanites are infecting the system, sir." Geordi's brow creased as he listened. "Wesley's been working on a science project. He decided to try something involving my research on nanotechnology. I... I didn't discourage him, sir. He probably spent half the night working on them. I found him asleep in the lab."

"You sure?" Geordi asked for confirmation, but all Nelson could do was nod grimly. For the second time in a short while, the engineer sighed. "Alright. Lieutenant Hessan-" He addressed a tall and strong-jawed figure on the other side of the table. "Take Ensign Gomez and run a micro-scan on the computer core. The rest of you, with me."

Almost the moment everyone started to move on to their new duties, the red alert klaxon went off. Eyes wandering over the flashing red light fixtures, Nelson quickly jogged back to the turbolift and had it carry him to the bridge.

"Still no visual contact?" Picard inquired, Worf not responding as he seemed focused entirely on his console. "Impossible. Mister Worf, same magnification. Fifty degrees starboard."

Commander Riker stepped up to the main viewer, but at an angle that didn't prevent Picard or anyone behind him from seeing it clearly. There was nothing but stars on display.

"Worf, you're absolutely sure-"

"Sensors clearly indicate the approach of a Borg vessel," Worf exclaimed as he fiddled at the controls. He seemed as confused by it as anyone else on the bridge.

"Shields up," was Riker's order, but Worf could only reply that they weren't responding.

As Nelson took his position at the science console. Rather surreptitiously, he brought up a schematic of the ship's plasma relays and watched for any anomalies. Unfortunately, the nanites appeared to be adept at fooling the internal sensors into showing nothing wrong.

"Captain, they've fired energy weapons at us," Worf exclaimed with notable concern.

"Evasive action."

Riker expanded on that order with more specific directions: "Bring about to two-eight-five mark three."

"Predict current vector of the Borg ship." Picard alternated between looking at the viewscreen and glancing down at the console on the arm of his chair.

Worf blinked and stared at his console as though he didn't understand what it meant. "Vector... is gone." He tried to confirm it, and sure enough... "And so is the Borg vessel."

Under his breath, Picard muttered, "You're telling me this was another computer glitch?"

"It is conceivable that we were viewing a synthetically generated image," Data answered with the kind of punctuality that continued to fascinate Nelson to this day. It was no wonder Starfleet almost passed on assigning a CSO to the Enterprise. They already had an android more than capable of filling the role in addition to his primary task of running the Operations division. "Although there is no precedent for it."

Incredulously, Riker looked back at Picard. "Our computer was daydreaming?"

"Computer, identify malfunction immediately."

"Pawn to King Three. Knight to Rook Four. Queen to Bishop Three."

"Controls are not responding," Data noted from his place at Operations.

It was about this point that Nelson found it necessary to glance back at the rest of the bridge crew. At first, he wasn't going to say anything, but then the shields went down and the ship jolted once again, prompting him to stand with one hand on his console for stability.

"Commander," he called, prompting Riker to glance back at him. "I may know what it is."

"You do?" Riker asked with a cautious look at their new CSO. He knew none of them fully trusted him as of yet, but at least they knew his record. "Mind enlightening us?"

"Nanites, sir," Nelson explained as simplistically as he could manage. "It may be Wesley's nanites."

After the captain and his XO shared a look, Picard contacted Engineering and asked Geordi to get the engines back online. Then he stood and pulled down his shirt to straighten it, eyes locked on the sun the viewscreen now centered on. "Lieutenant Worf, you will report to Engineering. I want a full report on the prospects for getting our shields back. Commander Data, contact Wesley and ask that he report to the conference room. Commander Riker, Lieutenant Nelson-" He then turned and glanced between them. "Join me in the conference room." With a grim expression and another look to Riker, he added, "It's time we discussed the future of this mission... if there is one."

* * *

Nelson sat one seat away from the captain, with enough space between them to allow for Data once he would arrive with Wesley. In the meantime, Picard looked quite conflicted.

"So you mean to tell me that these 'nanites' could be responsible for the computer malfunctions we've been experiencing?" Picard addressed Nelson in particular, though he glanced at least once in Riker's direction. "Lieutenant, what is your analysis?"

"Well, sir, there's a science fair project for each of my students due by the end of the week." With a constrained, subtle grimace, he explained. "I helped Wesley decide on a project to work on. He thought my experience with nanotechnology made me a potential resource. To make a long story short, I showed him some samples of the research I did with the Foundation on Rigel Eight. They were based on some kind of alien technology that's been around for the past millennia or so."

"That is the first I've heard of it," Picard exclaimed with mute surprise.

"It... isn't exactly common knowledge. The head of our division, Dr. Sareme, tried to publish her findings, only for both the archaeological and scientific communities to laugh her off." That particular memory made Nelson grimace, particularly when he had stood by and watched them utterly humiliate her without his stepping in to stop it. "Her research on the nanites she found served as a basis for the Starfleet Corps of Engineers' studies on those scans of the Borg Commander Data took during first contact."

Riker raised an eyebrow and asked, "How does this help us now?"

"Well," Nelson started as he leaned forward and gestured a bit with his hands, keeping them close to the table surface so as not to be too over-dramatic. "What I was thinking was we could use a sensor program to transmit a new set of commands to the nanites."

"How could they have gotten loose in the first place?" Picard inquired with a look of concern.

Nelson frowned. "I may have pushed Wesley too hard. The boy stayed up all night to finish the project that he must have fallen asleep in the science lab. I found a container on his desk had been left open, so I thought something might go wrong. When I checked the logs later, I found the nanites' programming hadn't been disengaged before Wes got puckered out. Poor kid."

At first, all that could be done was Riker giving Picard an exasperated look. But before either of them could speak again, the door behind Picard hissed open and in walked Data with Wesley beside him. "Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher, reporting as ordered," Wesley said as he crossed his arms behind his back in a formal pose. Picard merely nodded to Data, who took the seat closest, then asked Wesley to sit down next to Nelson. Although clearly a tad reluctant, Wesley did as he was told and took a seat.

"Wesley, am I to believe one of your science projects got loose on my ship?"

The boy frowned and glanced between Nelson and Picard, but he couldn't maintain eye contact with either of them and ultimately had to lower his gaze. "Yes, sir." But he quickly added, looking back up at the captain. "It's possible... but this could be anything."

"Why didn't you notify us sooner?" By the tone of Picard's voice, even Nelson knew the boy was in quite a lot of trouble now. "This little project of yours could be damaging my ship. Why?"

"Well, sir-" Wesley glimpsed at Nelson with a subtle, unappreciative look. "They could be trying to find raw materials to build more of themselves with, or they could be looking for a power source. To be honest, sir, I only started to study them."

"If I may," Nelson interjected, to which Riker gave a brief nod. Then the officer addressed Wesley directly. "Where exactly did you acquire the nanites?"

"Nowhere," Wesley answered rather hesitantly. "I just... I tried reconstructing one using the nanites we have in the Sickbay genetic supplies. I had to use a variant of the Borg nanite programming to make it work."

"Borg?" Riker exclaimed, looking at Wes as though the boy had just told them he'd planted a tricobalt bomb somewhere on the ship. "Who authorized this?"

"Nobody." Wesley suddenly felt a lot more nervous than ever before. That was evident in the fact he seemed unable to find a comfortable sitting position. "I just wanted to prove a theory."

"Wesley, is proving a theory more important than the safety and security of this ship and her crew?" Picard looked him in the eye, prompting the young Ensign to look down again. "You have duties - responsibilities - to me and to this ship."

"I know," Wesley replied in a meek, quiet voice.

As they were about to continue, the door opened again. Counselor Troi stepped in, a look of utter concern on her face. "Excuse me, Captain. Doctor Stubbs has been wanting to see you. I think it might be wise if-"

Before she could finish, the implacable old man whose life's work now sat in a cargo bay burst in. He appeared to be covering his concern more with impatience. Nelson noted how much he reminded him of another human doctor who served on Rigel for a long time: Doctor Kel-something. To be fair, Nelson only met the man once, but he wasn't exactly the kind of doctor with a pleasant bedside manner.

"Captain, I'm sure you have everything under control," Stubbs practically stuttered in that voice which barely hid his fear. "I'd just like to know what's going on."

"Doctor," Picard sounded less than amused, and he only cast a cursory look in the scientist's direction before turning his attention toward Nelson. "This is not a good time."

"Then when would be a good time?"

"We're doing everything we can," Riker chimed in, to which Stubbs only scoffed.

"Forgive me, Commander. But you don't seem to be doing enough."

"Dr. Stubbs, is it?" Nelson addressed the scientist, who ended up practically glaring at him from afar. That had little effect on Nelson, however, as he'd long since dealt with similar figures in the scientific community. "Forgive me, but I doubt there's much you can bring to the table right now." Before the older man could protest, he explained, "If I'm right, there are nanites loose on the ship."

"Nanites?" Stubbs sounded perturbed. "What the hell is a nanite?"

"Tiny robots, sir," Wesley answered. "They consume materials to make more of themselves... and it's kind of my fault..."

Though obviously disappointed in that revelation, Dr. Stubbs quickly asked around the table at anyone who could answer. "What about the Egg? Is it safe from these 'nanites'?"

"We don't know," Nelson confirmed with a certain grim solemnity behind his words. He stood and stepped over to the presentation monitor, where he summoned an image of a sample nanite of the kind used in the present by most medical officials. "Normally, the nanites aboard this ship are designed for exposure only to the inside of nuclei during cellular surgeries. Until then, they're kept tightly contained in a non-functioning state. But..." He took a deep breath and opened a second image next to the first - this time showing a nanite of almost completely different design. "The nanites Dr. Sareme found back on Rigel appeared to have evolved. They could teach each another what to do and how to do things. We believe they could've been the precursor to the Borg."

Dr. Stubbs didn't look impressed as he took the seat next to Wesley. "Machines can't evolve."

"Not in the technical sense, no," Nelson agreed, glancing at Data. "But we've witnessed unexpected emergent properties like consciousness in some inorganic lifeforms. Data, for example." Then he raised an eyebrow and looked between Picard and Riker. "The Moriarty program and Minuet too." Riker looked somewhat uncomfortable when Nelson mentioned the latter. "All proved capable of developing self-recognition. Was that your goal, Wesley?"

"Sort of," Wesley replied with an subtle grimace. "I had to give them a collective conscious so they could learn from each other. Maybe they could've grown past their programming?"

"This is highly irregular," Picard claimed as he brought his hands together on the table in front of him. "I can accept that these machines may have evolved, but why?"

"Something must have prompted the evolutionary trait to occur," Nelson confirmed. "They can't pass on genetic material, so it isn't evolution in the regular sense. But even programs don't spontaneously develop a new set of algorithms out of nothing." With a frown, he looked back over at the little machines found on the scan. "Maybe there's a connection with the two holographic programs?" His eyes then wandered back toward Data, as if hoping the android would contribute something to the discussion. "Because I don't believe in coincidence. Every effect has its cause."

"The first instance in which a computer program appeared to gain sapience was Commander Riker's dealing with the program of Minuet," Data explained, again prompting Riker to purse his lips and look down at the table. "A pair of Binars were responsible for altering the holodeck subroutines to create a more life-like simulation."

"So these Binars may have left some kind of program in our computers that's causing these effects?" Nelson wondered aloud. Data could only nod before he was interrupted.

"Captain," Dr. Stubbs interjected. "This is all well and good, but if we miss our chance to go through with my project now, we won't get another chance for two centuries. There will be many questions asked by Starfleet if the Enterprise fails in its duty..."

"Doctor," Picard addressed Stubbs in a sharp and commandeering voice. "At the end of the day, my first and foremost concern will be to ensure the safety of this ship and its crew."

With what appeared to be a smug look on his face, Dr. Stubbs asked rhetorically, "Ensure the safety, Captain - or are you really talking about playing it safe?"

"In our current position, when that star explodes, you'll get to watch your experiment from the inside out."

Stubbs shrugged and looked rather certain of himself. "I would rather die than leave."

Picard narrowed his eyes and replied, "I don't believe you speak for the majority, Doctor."

"Lieutenant Worf to Captain Picard," the Klingon's voice called out over the comm system. "Captain, all weapon systems are down."

"Estimated time for repairs?" Riker asked, now looking up at the wall opposite, as if he didn't want to lock eyes with anyone else in the room.

"Commander, I don't even know what to repair yet," Geordi responded with some confusion evident in his voice. "These nanites have gotten into just about everything. I don't even know how we're going to get them out."

"Well, if we do not take our leave in time, so be it." With a smirk, Dr. Stubbs stood. "It's one sure way into the history books, eh?"

* * *

Back in Sickbay, it looked like the day would be relatively quiet aside from the frequent computer interruptions. However, that all shattered when the doors opened and Eric walked in helping Annette, who appeared cold and shaken - and with a broken leg.

"What happened to you?" Beverly exclaimed as she approached with her scanning equipment.

"We had a little accident on the Holodeck," Eric barely managed to reply. Both he and Annette appeared to be more than just slightly afraid, however. They had both been crying, arguably out of fear when they found themselves stuck in the Holodeck. Nurse Ogawa helped Annette on to a table as Beverly started taking scans.

"We... we were running down a deserted slope when... when the ground just seemed to fall away." Annette teared up as she explained.

Without a second thought, Beverly hit her comm badge. "Engineering, this is Doctor Crusher. The Holodecks are to be closed by my order until further-"

Just before she could finish that sentence, the other girl, Vira, entered carrying Wesley, who appeared to be unconscious. She struggled to hold on to both his upper torso and legs, but luckily, she was rather tall and strong for her age.

"Wesley..." Beverly cut off the comm with that whisper and quickly ran over to help lift Wesley on to the central bio bed with the help of another nurse. Ogawa moved the other two children who were still distraught to a different bed for treatment.

Beverly looked worried, rashly loading a hypospray and injecting it into Wesley's neck. After that, she demanded a cortical stimulator, which was handed to her moments later. "Come on, Wesley," she muttered as she hooked the device up to his forehead. "Stay with us."

Several minutes passed, and each time Beverly scanned for Wesley's life signature, the latter grew weaker and weaker. The situation extended for over an hour, the occasional patient coming in and being treated by one of the other staff members. But Beverly never left Wesley's bedside, constantly trying to revive him. After all her effort, however... her tricorder indicated that Wesley had flatlined. "No," she started, rushing over to the counter to grab another vial of medicine she loaded into her hypospray before running back. She injected it into Wesley and checked the scanner. It didn't work. "No!" She practically shouted, causing the nurses - including Ogawa - to look on in pain and concern. "Wesley, please... don't go."

Beverly broke down into tears, nearly falling to her knees by Wesley's bedside, but nurse Ogawa crouched down next to her and hugged her.

Only minutes later, the door to the corridor outside opened to allow Picard to step in, gaze focused on the boy who passed on before he should have. The color left his face when he saw how Beverly and her daughter were taking it. Accompanying him was Nelson, who looked equally concerned, if not outright distressed. He didn't know these people well, and as a result, felt too awkward to try and say something. But Jean-Luc knew the Crusher family much longer than he did.

The sight of Wesley lying there on the operation table reminded Picard of the day he saw Jack, Wesley's father, die aboard the Stargazer. Only now, he opined, it was a boy no older than seventeen lying there with a long, fruitful future denied to him. The only words the captain could manage were soft and quiet, gaze never leaving his godson. "I'm sorry." Although her face was covered in tears, Beverly looked up to see Picard's pained expression as he stood at the head of the biobed. "This was a mistake." Silence, and then he continued. "If I had known, I wouldn't have taken Wesley off-duty."

Even though discomforted by this state of affairs, Nelson glanced at Beverly, then back at Wesley. As Beverly stared at Picard, arguably wondering whether she should be blaming him or not, Nelson took a deep breath and said in a soft voice. "He's not dead." That brought Beverly and Picard's attention to him, though neither were particularly happy with their expressions. Yet Nelson only looked back at them with a confidence that would be endearing had it not been mistimed. "What I mean is... we can save him."

"How?" Beverly asked, clearly hoping this science officer could pull it off.

"Lieutenant," Picard interjected. "Now may not be a good time..."

"I'm sorry, captain, but she deserves to know." Even Jean-Luc couldn't argue with that. He just felt they should explore other possibilities first. Yet, if Nelson was correct about this, this could be their only chance. Once Wesley's body started to decompose, they wouldn't get another. "Wesley said his nanites were modified versions of the ones in the Sickbay genetic supplies. They're meant to enter living cells and conduct repairs, right?"

"We considered that," answered Ogawa. "Those nanites weren't designed to repair damage to neural tissue."

"Not those nanites, no." Nelson looked Ogawa in the eye, but his attention soon shifted to Beverly, who continued to give him a worried look. "Dr. Sareme theorized the nanites she found were used for advanced genetic engineering. Wesley said the design for his nanites came from her research. They're highly adaptive and could potentially repair the damage to his mind... if we get them to him fast enough."

"Lieutenant," Picard addressed him in such a formal tone that belied the true disappointment he felt towards his Chief Science Officer. "What you're suggesting is dangerous and quite possibly unethical. We have no way of knowing what they'll do to him."

"Not yet," Nelson finally gave Picard a conspiratorial look. "Not unless we ask them."

"What do you mean?" Beverly barely managed to ask.

"I mean," Nelson said while finally latching his attention on the boy whose life was now at stake. "We find a way to communicate with the nanite collective and ask if they'll help save this boy's life. And I think I know just the person to talk to them..."

At first, it seemed Picard wouldn't approve of an action that could have serious repercussions on any member of his crew. As Dr. Stubbs pointed out, the captain often played it safe one too many times before. Perhaps now he had to make a change and see where that road would lead. "Beverly?" He asked of the good doctor to make the final decision. It was her son they would be performing this experiment on, after all... and as much as Picard disliked the uncertainty of it, he let Beverly get away with more than one risky operation.

"Captain..." Beverly expressed her grave misgivings of her daughter's confidence in just one word. "If those things hurt my son... I don't want this to happen again."

"I know it's a lot to ask." Nelson eyed Wesley with a solemn expression. "I had a son once. He wasn't much older than Wes. But... I screwed up. I was too concerned with my job that I didn't give him the attention he deserved. Now..." His sentence trailed off before he narrowed his eyes and looked back at Beverly. "I don't want that to happen to you. He's a good kid. You don't deserve to experience what I had to."

Wordlessly, Beverly nodded to herself. That was enough for Rotas, who requested permission to get started. Picard granted it, but only if they worked with Geordi and Lt. Cmdr Data. To that end, Nelson wandered off in the direction of the main science lab. He'd resolve this issue one way or the other.

* * *

Nelson had taken the opportunity to collect the last remaining sample of Wesley's experiment from the lab he'd been working in and brought them to his own. They'd work there for at least half an hour after he revealed the full extent of his idea, a mere minute after Data and Geordi stepped in: "With your permission, Commander Data... I want to try connecting your positronic net to the infected ships' systems to communicate with the nanites."

"Now hold on," Geordi interjected before Data could get a word off edge-wise. "You're talking about potentially endangering Data's life here."

"It is conceivable that the nanites may simply see me as a source of materials to aid in their replication process," Data acknowledged. "However, there may be no alternative means of communication. They will be able to better adapt to the database of languages stored in my neural net. All the necessary components are stored in my cranial unit."

"Then to avoid the risk of those nanites taking control of you beyond whatever they need for communication, we should separate your... your head-" Nelson felt a bit awkward saying that. "From the rest of your body."

"Now wait." Again, Geordi couldn't believe what he was hearing. It wasn't just the plan about the head though. "Why can't the nanites just use the ship's comm system?"

"They're too small and dispersed to control any large, complex system like our ship's computer core," Nelson explained. "Hence why they consider the computer core a source for raw material. They simply lack the capacity to use it in its present form."

"Can't we modify the universal translator?" Geordi insisted.

"It is possible," Data admitted with a curious expression. "However, at best, they may only be able to communicate with single words or numbers. A direct link to their collective mind may be the only way to communicate with them more efficiently."

"And we don't have time to teach them their ABC's." Nelson looked intensely at La Forge, clearly confident they had no other choice. "Wesley's life is on the line."

"Okay." Geordi raised his arms out a little, then let them fall back to his sides. "Alright. So what do we do first?"

"Well," Nelson started toward his console on the other side of the room, where he'd sit on a stool and get to work. "I'll work on programming the code we need. Bring the sample nanites on my desk over to Data and activate them." He glanced back over at Data. "With any luck, they'll automatically connect to the collective mind, and Commander Data can let them enter his positronic net."

"Then what do you plan to do?" Geordi questioned, still unsure about this plan.

"Just buy me some time." Nelson started toward his console on the other side of the room, where he'd sit on a stool and get to work. "I'll prepare the code. Once that's done..." He looked across the room at a table covered in beakers and glass jars. "We need some way to draw them into that container." There was one he undoubtedly referred to: a glass tube held on a small rack in the center of the table.

"Maybe we could use a few of the spare linear memory crystals we have on board," Geordi suggested. "If we sprinkle a few in there, and you can direct those nanites you brought in here to search for them..."

"If these nanites are sapient and capable of independent thought, it would be highly unethical not to ask for their assistance beforehand," Data replied. "They may be unable to determine with certainty what path to follow to the container, however, should they accept our proposal."

"Alright, well, I better stay here and handle Data," Geordi added in his two cents. Then he hit his comm badge. "Hessan, go see if you can salvage some of the spare memory crystals, but not too many. We should only need, what... five or six?"

"I'll see what I can do," was the response on the other end.

Less than an hour later, they finished their own projects, with Hessan standing aside in case he was needed. Data's body sat in a chair leaned up against the wall while his severed head sat atop a console. Once they were ready, Geordi hit a button on a control panel which released the newly-reactivated nanites from Wesley's test container. Almost immediately, they detected Data's advanced neural net and scurried beneath his neck. In response, Data's head twitched for a moment, but ultimately regained its form.

"You are very strange looking creatures," he said in a voice that was highly garbled. No doubt the nanites were having difficulty adjusting to his vocal processors. "We received a program instructing us on how to communicate. What reason have we been brought here?"

"We have a favor to ask," stated Geordi, who glanced over at Nelson. Surely he'd like to make the proposal to them. If nothing else, he deserved the chance to try.

Nelson glowered at the head, despite the awkward humor in this situation. Whatever the case might be, these were the same nanites that caused the malfunctions. These were the same beings who caused the Holodeck to malfunction... and Wesley to die.

"One of our officers was in a holodeck you invaded. When it malfunctioned..." Though he wasn't certain, Nelson believed Wesley had sustained severe trauma to the neck which broke his spinal cord. That, or he suffered brain damage. That would explain Nurse Ogawa's rationalization that the problem was neural and couldn't simply be repaired with basic medical nanites. "He's dead because of you."

An eyebrow on Data's head raised, and its eyes looked up at Nelson in confusion. "What is 'dead'?"

"It's the cessation of life," responded La Forge, who stepped up beside Nelson in the hopes he could help make the job of convincing the nanites easier for him. "When a body shuts down and no longer functions. What powers the body stops providing energy for it to feed on."

"We would not wish to die," the nanites compelled Data to say.

"Neither do we." Nelson couldn't continue this conversation any further. He gave Geordi a stern look, then went back to his console while the latter sighed and took his place.

"Our directive is to gather raw materials to replicate more of our kind." Though at first it seemed they were simply ignoring Nelson's subtle proposal, what they said after proved otherwise. "Whether or not you die is irrelevant to that process."

Geordi stepped forward and exclaimed, "You wouldn't be harmed. All you'd have to do is-"

"No," the nanites reiterated in a forceful tone through Data's vocal processors. "That is not our purpose. We only wish to replicate more of our kind."

"We can reprogram you. Give you a new directive."

"That is unacceptable." They sounded more hostile by that point. "That would interfere with our purpose. We must replicate-"

Suddenly, Data's eyes looked straight ahead and his expression stiffened. Then, beneath his neck, a glittery substance momentarily emerged, only to fade into the table. Moments later, Nelson stood and prepared a hypospray. The nanites from Data gathered in the center of the other table, where Hessan had prepared several of the crystals. The nanites crawled into the test tube, and Nelson quickly secured it with a tiny lid.

"Gotcha," he said with a smirk, just before he stepped over to Hessan with the tube in hand. "Take this to Doctor Crusher and have her inject it into Wesley as soon as possible. By the time you reach Sickbay, the nanites in here should've finished using the crystals to replicate more than enough to effect the repairs necessary to revive him."

Data's systems, in the meantime, were just beginning to return to normal. Geordi, for his part, stared in disbelief. "Lieutenant, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, Commander La Forge," responded Nelson, who never once took his eyes off Hessan as the latter took the hypospray and made his way out the door to the infirmary. "I know exactly what I'm doing..."

Suddenly, the ship rocked uncontrollably. The comm system came alive, and it was Gomez's voice on the other end. "Commander La Forge? We need your help in Engineering right away!" Luckily, Engineering wasn't too far. "We've got to irradiate the core! The nanites are spreading too fast!"

"I'm on my way!" Geordi narrowed his eyes at Nelson and quickly worked to get Data's head back on to his body. "You still feeling like this was a good idea?"

With a deep frown, Nelson ignored the question and quickly left to head for Sickbay. Although he knew there was little he could do about the ship's situation, there was at least one thing he could help with, even if it meant giving the other nanites hell.

* * *

Although the smoke was fairly heavy, the chamber with the warp core in it was so large and open that most of the engineers were still able to move about the bottom floor. Several had to be taken out on cots to Sickbay, but otherwise, many worked on trying to salvage what systems they could. "Commander!" Gomez exclaimed when she saw Geordi, waving him over. "We're about to flood the computer core with high level gamma radiation. The order's from the captain."

"Alright, let's get to work!" With no time to lose, Geordi started shouting orders to each of his subordinates. "We need to shut down all systems before we do this! Gomez, you and Ensign Stone get to the computer core! Bartel, get to systems diagnostics and make sure we don't burn out life support! Alright people, we're going to send the radiation through the plasma relays along with an electrical charge! Make sure all systems are ready for the gamma burst!"

"Here we go..." Once they were ready, Geordi held his breath and put in the command at his console behind the window overlooking the warp core chamber. He hesitated briefly at pressing the button to finalize the command, knowing full well what this could mean. They were about to commit genocide. But when the ship shook again and a console blew out, throwing Ensign Palmer across the room, he knew it was too late to turn back now. So he pressed the button.

As soon as the radiation was released, all the lights in the room went out, as did many monitors. However, the panel Geordi stood by remained lit because they needed to monitor the radiation's progress. "Looks like it's working," Geordi exclaimed in a relieved but rather somber tone. Negotiations had failed, and now, they just killed a sapient species... one of their own creation. After a while, he looked up at Lieutenant Bartel, who worked on a wall console to his left. "I think we're ready to bring the systems back online."

The lights flickered back to life, and Geordi made some additional checks on the desk console behind the window facing the warp core. "I think we got them all." Finally, he hit his comm badge. "Captain, the computer core's been flushed. We'll be able to bring everything back online in just a minute."

"Good," was Picard's stern reply. "Keep me informed. Picard out."

"Well," Geordi finally let himself sit down on a stool, exhausted. "Glad that's over."

As if the universe had a sense of irony, the red alert klaxon sounded and Geordi let out a sigh. When he peeked at the status operations console, he checked what could possibly be wrong... and he found the answer. "No way." With no time to lose, he quickly moved over to the wall console behind him and called Bartel over. "It didn't work. They're in main shuttlebay." He looked at her with increasing concern. "They're opening the bay doors."

"Damn," Bartel cursed as she hurried back over to her console. "Should I try another radiation burst, sir?"

"Do it," Geordi snapped, though rather unintentionally. Again, the lights and consoles flickered off and on in the course of a few seconds. Then...

"Commander La Forge..." Over the comm, Picard's voice interrupted before Geordi could respond.

"I see it, captain." He worked on the console a few seconds more before explaining as he went: "It looks like the nanites are sacrificing themselves to create some kind of force field inside the plasma relays. They're preventing the radiation from getting through."

Suddenly, a beep took his attention away from what the nanites were doing in the system itself. An image appeared on his display, showing the interior of the shuttlebay. Sure enough, the bay door had opened, and now Dr. Stubbs stood at the controls about to depressurize the bay.

"Captain, we've got a problem! Dr. Stubbs is trying to release the probe!"

"What?" Riker exclaimed from his position on the bridge.

"Dr. Stubbs," Picard addressed the scientist over the comm. There was no guarantee his signal was getting through, but he thought it prudent to try regardless. "What do you think you're doing?"

Seconds passed, and Stubbs didn't respond. He merely continued to work on the control panel.

"Commander La Forge, can you lock him out of the shuttlebay controls?"

"I'm trying, Captain," Geordi responded as he worked furiously on his console. "It looks like whatever field the nanites are maintaining is keeping me from establishing a connection to the shuttlebay systems."

"Chief O'Brien." Picard decided to shift tactics. "Can you beam Dr. Stubbs out of the main shuttlebay?"

"I'm trying, sir." O'Brien sounded confused as ever. "Whatever those nanites are doing, it's disrupting the transporter's sensors. I can't get a lock."

Before Picard could try again, the force field between the shuttle bay and beyond dissipated, and almost immediately, Dr. Stubbs and the Egg were both jettisoned into space. The sight caused Geordi to frown deeply, his brow creased. "It's too late, captain." He then looked over at Bartel, knowing she saw it too. "He's gone."

The console at Bartel's fingertips let out a sound to indicate the purge was successful. There were no more nanites in the shuttle bay. For now, it seemed, the ship was safe once again. However, she could only stare at the image from the shuttlebay in shock.

"This is Dr. Crusher," Beverly exclaimed in a rather excited voice over the comm. "There's someone here who'd like to say hello."

"Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher, ready for duty, sir." Wesley sounded quite alive and well.

"Not until I give you a clean bill of health," Beverly replied. But their friendly 'bickering' was briefly interrupted by Picard.

"It's good to hear you alive and well again, Mr. Crusher." Picard sounded relieved, but that tone soon shifted as the desperation of the situation settled in. "Doctor, we're going to need your expertise here soon. It seems Dr. Stubbs has... killed himself."

"Killed himself?" Beverly sounded surprised. "How?"

"He entered the shuttlebay and opened the launch door," answered Riker, who seemed no less disturbed by what everyone on the bridge had witnessed on the viewscreen. "It depressurized with him in it."

"I'm on my way." Beverly cut her link and ordered Ogawa to watch Wesley while she went to investigate. On the bridge, Picard narrowed his eyes at the viewscreen and held a stern look there.

"Why did Dr. Stubbs go that far? I want an answer, Geordi. Picard out."

Another sigh escaped Geordi for the hundredth time that day. He tapped his comm badge. "Lieutenant Nelson. Meet me in shuttlebay one."

* * *

An hour later, they were done with the analysis. There were traces of dead nanites scattered near where the Egg itself had stood. Similarly, a few husks of nanites were left behind on the control panel in places which, presumably, Dr. Stubbs' fingers brushed against.

Worf's half of the investigation turned up some disturbing facts, all of which coalesced into an even more disturbing theory. "There was an electrical discharge in Dr. Stubbs' quarters," Geordi explained after they had all gathered in the briefing room. "According to the sensor log Worf provided, it looks like some of the nanites piggy-backed on the lightning and may have entered Dr. Stubbs' body through pores on his skin."

"I've looked over the evidence, and it's certainly possible." Dr. Crusher didn't sound too happy about that, but then, who would be? It was a breach of security none of them could've predicted, yet one that served as a reminder that the nanites in question utilized Borg technology. "They may have assimilated Dr. Stubbs into a miniature collective."

"Lieutenant," Picard eyed Nelson from his end of the table. "What's your analysis of the situation in the shuttlebay? Is it... is it possible any of them survived?"

"I can almost guarantee it, Captain." Nelson sounded like he didn't want to answer truthfully, yet there was no doubt that he did. "They may have used the Egg as an escape pod. Presumably, they could handle the higher temperatures near the star's corona, so they directed the probe in the direction of those two suns. They must've known we couldn't follow them in. Nothing turned up in the scans we took after."

"So they're still out there," Riker opined as he looked over at Picard.

With a frozen expression, the only thing Picard could muster was:

"And they'll endanger whatever ships they come across." A brief moment of silence passed as everyone around the table knew what that meant. They just created a new enemy, and the repercussions of that action could be felt for years to come. "Dismissed."

After everyone began to file out, Nelson only stood by his chair and looked at Picard, who stared off in the distance with a countenance so grim, the room seemed to darken with each passing moment. When it was just them, Nelson bowed his head in shame. "Captain... I owe you an apology." He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and faced his commanding officer. "I made a mistake. Don't blame the kid just because I made a poor decision. It was my idea to upload the code, with or without their consent."

"Under any other circumstances, I would have you court-martialed," Picard stated with a note of bitterness in his voice. But at no point did he match Nelson's gaze or give him any sort of attention beyond his verbal responses. "You put this ship and crew at risk, Lieutenant. I cannot let you go unpunished for that."

"I know," Nelson acceded while averting his eyes toward the starscape overlooking them. "You do whatever it takes, captain. But I won't apologize for saving Wes."

"You had to trade the life of one for another," Picard exclaimed as he finally leaned back in his chair, still unwilling to look Nelson in the eye. "Dr. Stubbs is dead because of your actions. The nanites knew what you did and saw it as a threat."

Nelson flinched inside, but did his best not to let on to that fact as Picard continued to berate him. Yet, what felt like an eternity later, Picard relented and looked up at him.

"You know more about these nanites and what they are capable of than any of us. If we're to succeed in one day stopping them, we may need you." He frowned and looked away. "I gave the order. _I_ let you do this. In the end... that makes _me_ responsible." Then his voice softened, even though his expression did not. "But you saved a child's life."

Silence. No 'thank you' or 'well done', nor did Nelson expect to receive one. All he could do was purse his lips and give Picard one last, long look before leaving. But Picard remained there, transfixed on his own thoughts, hoping beyond everything else that this had been the right decision. Was it moral to endanger the entire ship and crew to save only one life - even if that life was that of a child's? It would take a lot of thought, and a lot of soul-searching, to reach a conclusion...

But in the end, he knew. Only time would tell. The stage was set. Now they would reap the rewards... or the consequences.


	2. 3x02 Ensigns of Command

**Author's Note** : This hasn't been completed just yet, but it's almost done! I thought I'd go ahead and post what I have up now though, just in case. Check back later, as I'll be updating this chapter, and I don't think the site notifies readers of that kind of thing.

Also, in response to the last two reviews, thank you! Regarding the USS Venture discrepancy, I wrote this as if it were an episode being produced. I don't think we saw many Galaxy-class ships in TNG, but Excelsior-class models were more frequently used in season 3, so I decided to call it that. There's a bit of stock footage used in episodes with an Excelsior next to the Enterprise, so I had that in mind when I wrote it as such.

Hope you enjoy this rewrite! The next will hopefully come much sooner than this one. I'm terribly sorry for how long this one took. ^^;

* * *

Ten Forward. During much of the day, it served only as the crew lounge and favored spot to meet and have drinks. On occasions such as today, however, it served as the host to various musical performances which couldn't be played in the slightly more confined space of the theater. Besides, Hurak, the Vulcan who entered carrying a violin, thought the ambience here better suited the appropriate effect they wanted their music to have. While Ensign Ortiz planned most of the performance, Hurak elected Ten Forward as the venue of choice. Luckily for him, the others agreed - the vote unanimous.

He sat down as Tathwell and O'Brien both worked on tuning their instruments. It was a sound the Vulcan had become all too familiar with in the past few weeks. Although he had carefully tuned his own instrument before arriving, he chose to use this time to alter it in light of how the others tuned theirs. It was important their instruments worked in perfect unison to provide a harmonious melody without unnecessary discord. Almost the moment he laid his bow upon the strings, the doors opened, and in walked Data carrying his own violin.

Rather than join the ensemble first, Data took the chance to look around at the audience. It was much bigger than he'd anticipated. The captain sat at one of the tables in a rigid pose. He'd been invited at the last minute, but Data didn't realize he would attend the first performance. Dr. Crusher had also been invited, but she passed it up to spend some time with her son after their previous ordeal. Although Wesley appeared fine, Beverly wanted to keep him under observation for a few months. For the moment, however, Data focused on the present and approached the table where Picard sat.

"Captain," he greeted in his usual, neutral tone. "I am honored by your presence, but may I suggest you attend the second concert?"

Picard creased his brow in concern and asked, "Why?"

"Ensign Ortiz will perform the violin part in the performance she'll be hosting later this evening. My rendition will be less enjoyable."

"Oh?" Picard crossed his hands in his lap and looked at Data, fully expecting an explanation he, of course, would get.

"While I am quite proficient technically, according to my fellow performers, I lack... soul."

"Data," Picard interjected with a frown. "You can't possibly know that unless you try. Practice is only the beginning."

Data's brow creased, moreso in childlike wonder than anger. "But is it not preferred to listen and act upon the opinion of an expert?"

"Experts, Data," Picard started to explain, a brief sigh escaping his lips before he could continue. "Cannot always be relied on to pass impartial judgement."

"Indeed?" Data hoped for an elaboration on that point.

"Knowing your limitations is one thing. Letting others define them for you is another."

After a moment of deep thought, Data nodded curtly and moved to take his place with the other performers. Hurak joined them in lifting their instruments to their shoulders - all but O'Brien, who chose to play the cello, which he'd purportedly played since he was a schoolboy. They began a fair rendition of the first movement of Mozart's famous Eine kleine Nachtmusik when the comm beeped unobtrusively.

"Captain," Riker spoke from his position on the bridge. "We received a message from Starfleet Command. It's from an Admiral William Ross, sir. He wants to speak with you."

Without responding, lest he interrupt the performance, Picard stood and excused himself. He took one last, long look at the quartet and left for the bridge. Though guilty for missing Data's concert, he silently hoped there would be another one in the future.

* * *

On the bridge, Riker and Worf were at their usual stations. Ensigns Gates and Sakata manned both the conn and ops positions, respectively.

"Starfleet clearance code verified," Worf answered before Picard could even put forward the obvious question. "It's from Starbase 375, Admiral Ross commanding."

"On screen," Picard ordered as he stepped down to a position just in front of his chair facing the viewscreen. When it activated, the rather solemn face of an admiral greeted him. His rank pips denoted he was technically a rear admiral, though he'd have to be addressed as admiral nonetheless. "Admiral," Picard acknowledged. "What can we do for you?"

"Captain Picard." They hardly knew one another, so Ross only felt comfortable referring to Picard by his family name and rank. But he didn't call to make small-talk. "We've got word that a Federation colony in the Salva system didn't get evacuated with the others in the sector. The Cardassians have already sent three ships to reclaim the planet."

"A colony?" Riker exclaimed with a look of disbelief. "Starfleet evacuated all colonies in that sector because it was in the middle of a warzone, wasn't it?"

"I'm afraid the turmoil following the last attack a year ago made Starfleet more concerned with getting them out as fast as possible." Ross' frown deepened. "I'm afraid that, in the process, we may have made some oversights."

"Oversights?" Picard could hardly believe what he was hearing. "That's a rather large oversight, Admiral."

"I know," Ross admitted with more guilt than he let on. "But what's done is done. Now there's a Federation colony out there that needs your help." He paused and briefly looked down before continuing in a softer voice. "The war's died down in the past few years. We're close to completing a treaty negotiation that could develop a Demilitarized Zone along our two borders. With any luck, it'll put an end to over twenty years of bloodshed on both sides. But it'll cost us something in return."

"And what would that be?" Picard asked, genuinely concerned.

"Planets." That was the answer Picard had dreaded. "We're planning on ceding certain systems closer to worlds under their influence. This colony... is one of them."

Picard narrowed his eyes. "How many people are on the colony?"

"Fifteen thousand." The blood nearly left Picard's face when he realized the enormity of that number. Even the Enterprise, as one of the largest ships in the fleet, could only hold a little over a thousand - perhaps three-thousand at best. Although its maximum carrying capacity was technically 15,000, that would use every last square inch of the ship's interior. They couldn't possible operate the ship with that many people on board.

"Admiral, I doubt we can evacuate the colonists in time."

"We don't expect you to." Admiral Ross straightened himself and looked Picard dead in the eye. "Your mission is to stall the Cardassians, preferably through diplomacy. Convince them this colony isn't worth attacking, and get as many of the townspeople ready to evacuate. We'll be sending reinforcements, including dedicated transports."

"And how long before those reinforcements arrive?" Riker's tone prompted a sour look from Ross, forcing the Commander to add, "... sir."

"Two weeks." That caused Picard to look more concerned than he had this entire briefing. "Those Cardassian ships will arrive at the planet in three days. You've got that long to figure out what you're going to do. Ross out."

Before Picard could get another word in, Ross signed off. All he could do now was take a deep breath, focus on the viewscreen, and order them to the Salva system at warp nine.

"Engage."

* * *

"Captain," Worf exclaimed some time after the Enterprise entered orbit of the planet. "Receiving a hail from the surface."

"On screen." Picard tugged at his shirt to straighten it, then crossed one leg over the other to appear somewhat more in control than he felt.

The image that appeared showed a middle-aged man with a thin, grey haircut. His eyes were weary and his face long, yet he held himself with a certain level of distinction and pride that undercut his otherwise ragged appearance.

"I'm Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise." Picard decided to introduce himself first, in the hopes his offering of a figurative olive branch would smooth over further negotiation.

"Gosheven, administrator of Salva colony. We detected your arrival when you entered orbit." For a moment, he looked off-screen, then resumed his inquiry. "I assume you're here to warn us about the Cardassians."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "In a manner of speaking. We're here to negotiate a cease fire long enough to evacuate your people from the planet."

"That could be difficult, Captain Picard." Gosheven frowned. "The Cardassians have attacked this colony fourteen times over three years ago. Many of us have lost loved ones. We... don't want to capitulate to them. We want to fight."

"Starfleet is doing all it can to end this conflict with the Cardassians," Picard tried to explain. However, he could tell by Gosheven's expression that the colonist wasn't buying it. "What you need to do is prepare your people for resettlement."

"Captain..." Gosheven took a deep breath before continuing. "Maybe I wasn't clear. We're staying. If Starfleet wants to placate the Cardassians, fine. But we won't. Salva colony out."

Before Picard could get another word in, Gosheven broke the connection. He sighed and sat back in his chair, giving Riker a look that said everything.

"Mr. Worf, Data, you're with me," Riker ordered as he stood, making for the turbolift as he did so. That only left Picard to stare sternly at the viewscreen and prepare for the inevitable arrival of the Cardassians... and with any luck, he'd think of something to say by then.

* * *

The main pumping station of Salva looked surprisingly marvelous in front of the backdrop of a distant mountain range. A thin, white line descended from those mountains all the way into the city proper, where it was clearly an aqueduct. Along the line of the aqueduct were lush fields, each tapering off to the sides until they partially faded into the desert beyond. In the center of the town stood a strange, cube-shaped purifying station. In a pool at its foot, the water churned into a white froth.

Gosheven stood to the side, supervising two workers as they tested the water. As he did so, two men approached, escorting the away team of Riker, Data, and Worf. They didn't hold the team at gunpoint, but they carried weapons in holsters at their hips nonetheless. Many of the people in the colony looked geared up for war, though their equipment was inconsistent. Some carried Starfleet phasers, others Cardassian pistols. Phaser rifles of one sort or the other occasionally appeared too.

"Gosheven," Riker called out to get the governor's attention. When Gosheven looked up, he seemed perturbed, his brow creased. "I'm Commander William Riker. This is Lieutenant Commander Data and Lieutenant Worf, our chief of security."

"Well, I assume this isn't a social visit." Gosheven didn't look impressed, but he clearly didn't feel smug. On the contrary, he was simply unhappy. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk." Riker eyed the people who had gathered, each armed and arguably afraid they'd have to turn their weapons on the away team. "In private."

Not amused, Gosheven sighed and briefly looked at his feet. "It won't work, Commander." When he raised his head again, he explained, "There's already been consensus. Everyone in the colony agrees. We're not ready to give up just yet."

"Governor," Riker started, more persistent and forceful than Gosheven gave him credit for. "Your people were meant to be evacuated nearly a year ago. Starfleet made a mistake and failed to process your colony with the rest. Why?"

"Why?" Now it was Gosheven's turn to sound a tad more forceful, though he maintained a dignified and collected pose, if only for the sake of his audience. "Because after ninety years and four generations, this planet has become our home. We didn't acknowledge Starfleet's call. We chose to remain silent."

"You would risk your lives to protect a single planet?" Riker narrowed his eyes. But Gosheven returned the favor:

"If Earth was in danger, wouldn't you?"

"Data?" Riker took a step back, unwilling to dignify that question with a response.

"The Cardassians have sent three warships toward this system," Data explained in his usual, neutral tone. "Your most sensible course of action is to prepare a contingency plan for the evacuation of your people."

For a moment, it looked like Gosheven would simply tell them off again. Then, he made an odd decision: to respond to their concerns with reason and a calm demeanor.

"What's the maximum carrying capacity of your ship?"

"At max capacity, 15,000," Data answered. "However, there is insufficient time to transport everyone in the colony to the ship."

"I see." Gosheven turned his attention toward Riker. "Well, Commander. Looks like we're not going anywhere after all."

* * *

Picard paced back and forth. Troi sat in the chair reserved for the second officer, though in practice, it ended up used by nearly any senior officer without a set station on the bridge. Aside from the unnamed ensigns at conn and ops, only Worf stood at his station.

"No response," he exclaimed in his nominally deep voice.

"Try again," Picard countered, adding as an afterthought: "Boost signal strength."

Worf adjusted the comm relay through his console and tried again:

"Cardassian ships. This is the Starship Enterprise. Respond please."

Finally, after their third try, the viewscreen flickered for a moment, and Picard now stood face-to-face, so to speak, with a female Cardassian who seemed to have a frown permanently fused to her face. On the other hand, she probably didn't want to talk to her Federation enemies until somebody from Central Command ordered her to.

"I'm Gul Hanno, commander of the Envek." Before Picard could even bother to introduce himself, she continued in a stern voice. "Do you intend a hostile engagement with my ship, captain, or is it standard protocol for Starfleet to put a single ship between Cardassian warships and a Federation outpost?"

"Believe me," Picard thought it important to say. "We did not intend to leave any of our colonies behind. We evacuated this sector nearly a year ago as a gesture of goodwill."

"So you say." Hanno briefly grit her teeth before continuing. "My superiors believe Starfleet left it there intentionally, as a means of spying on us."

"I assure you, Gul, that this is not an intelligence outpost."

"Then why did it only show on sensors four hours ago?" Rather than allow Picard the chance to answer, Hanno answered for him: "Your colony used a camouflage technology to hide from our sensors. That is clearly to avoid being discovered."

Picard frowned and glanced back at Troi, who could only look back in confusion. The Salva colony had been cloaked from sensor sweeps until recently? It seemed odd that Admiral Ross would leave this little fact out of his briefing. But Picard didn't have time to give that more thought. Instead, he tried to focus on the immediate situation.

"I cannot explain why, only that we will investigate the matter."

"Ah," Hanno had a bitter scoff. "Investigate all you like, captain. But when we arrive, we expect you to let us conduct an investigation of our own. And that is not negotiable."

Without formally signing out, Hanno cut the comm link, leaving Picard only to look out at the stars and wonder about his next move. It didn't take him long to slap his badge and order Commander Riker to return to the ship with his entourage. In the XO's place, Picard looked to Troi, who knew his intentions before he even had to give the order. She would stand and take a short journey to the transporter room and, from there, the surface. That just left him with the job of handing out assignments.

What he wouldn't give to simply be listening to Mozart right now.

* * *

Candles lit the darkened quarters where the Vulcan Hurak stayed during his off-hours. He sat in the center of the room on the floor, legs crossed and eyes closed. A small, fuel-powered lamp sat on a low table in front of him, the center taming a calm flame. It served as a metaphor for the Vulcan control of their emotions. His hands pressed together, the fore and middle fingers on both extended together, he concentrated on his slow, deep breaths. As irrational as the use of such an ornate ritual seemed, Hurak and many others thought it brought peace to their scattered thoughts.

However, Hurak couldn't hold his concentration for long. He opened his eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation, lowering his hands to his lap. His thoughts were /too/ scattered for this meditation to work. He wondered if it wouldn't be easier to just try and get some sleep. Just as he leaned down and blew out the candle on his lamp, the comm chirped.

"Priority one message coming in on a secured channel," the computer stated as plainly as it could. Hurak acknowledged by haltingly lifting himself back on to his feet. Then he approached the monitor on his desk and sat down, tapping the button that would activate the screen. On the other end sat a human in plain clothes transmitting from a room much darker than Hurak's. Presumably, this was to prevent anyone from figuring out where he sent the message from by visual cues. But Hurak expected that much. Not even the other man's face could be seen behind the shadow cast over his features.

"Have you arrived at Salva?" The mysterious figure on the other line asked.

"Indeed," Hurak acknowledged with a soft nod.

"Good." The stranger sat up and let out a breath of relief. If Hurak could see his eyes, they'd undoubtedly be glaring sternly at him. "Make sure the supplies reach the surface. It's too late to recloak the colony, but at least we can hide our listening station."

"What will be done about the Cardassians?" Hurak wondered aloud.

"Let us worry about that." Though Hurak helped to cover up this questionable operation, he similarly felt concerned for the lives of the people on the surface. Many were innocent and didn't deserve to die. "Just do your job, Hurak. The Federation thanks you for your service." The silhouetted figure reached out to close the transmission, but stopped short of doing so for a moment. "If your conscience is weighing you down, just remember: the needs of the many..."

"Outweigh the needs of the few." Hurak pursed his lips and nodded once before the transmission ended. In a whisper, he concluded: "... or the one."

* * *

Picard, Riker and Data were sat in the briefing room by the time Geordi and O'Brien entered. They were called up to the conference room, for some reason or another, on captain's orders. Along the way, however, they had a chance to discuss the situation, and they both had the same idea as to what would be asked of them.

"Gentlemen," Riker began, his strict gaze flittering between the two of them. "We're giving you an assignment, and the one thing we don't want to hear is that it is impossible."

With that, Riker deferred to Picard. Geordi and O'Brien turned to him warily, afraid he'd ask exactly what they expected. After all, wasn't it a captain's duty to give his crew impossible assignments with terribly short deadlines?

"I need the transporters to function around the clock without recharging."

"Impossi-" Geordi caught himself, especially when Riker shot a mean look at him. "Yes, sir." O'Brien, in particular, frowned and shook his head once they were out in the corridor beyond. It was only a short walk back out to the bridge and the turbolift, but with each step, he felt the impossibility of their situation grow nearer and nearer.

Once they were in the turbolift, Geordi ordered the computer to take them to transporter room three. Although it served as O'Brien's favorite transporter room for the past two years, he felt he'd be sick of it by day's end.

"I don't know how we're going to do this," O'Brien admitted aloud. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Well, the captain's just worried," explained La Forge in as patient a tone as he could muster. It wasn't that O'Brien frequently annoyed him, but that this particular situation would inevitably be stressful on them both. He didn't look forward to it. "If we can't beam up everyone on that colony, we'd have no choice but to leave them to die. I doubt the Cardassians are going to give them a fighting chance."

That little revelation made the back of O'Brien's neck bristle. He knew the Cardassians all too well. In his tenure aboard the USS Rutledge, he served as junior tactical officer during the earlier years of the Federation-Cardassian War. A year later, he experienced the aftermath of the Setlik III massacre. What he'd seen the Cardassians do to the human civilians on that planet still gave him nightmares to this day.

But it wasn't the prospect of what would happen to the settlers of Salva if left to their own devices which made O'Brien grit his teeth. It was Geordi's insistence that the Enterprise would do nothing to stop it.

"You can't be serious," he argued with barely constrained anger. "We can't just leave those people to die! Those Cardies have no right-"

"Chief," Geordi interrupted him by referring to his enlisted rank, Chief Petty Officer. "I'm not saying we have to like it. But if Captain Picard orders it, we will leave, is that clear?"

O'Brien narrowed his eyes and held back the urge to throw one last insult at the Chief Engineer. "Perfectly, sir."

La Forge sighed and shook his head moments before the door opened and he could leave. Hurak had stood at the turbolift doors, waiting for it to arrive, and was thus forced to step aside as Geordi stepped out. O'Brien followed behind, but only after glaring daggers into Geordi's back for a moment. With a deep frown, Hurak raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms behind his back before entering the turbolift.

"Deck 8." As the doors closed, Hurak watched the two crewmates disappear around the corner. Perhaps he had just witnessed something he could use...

* * *

Lieutenant Nelson sat at a table in the primary science lab, where he analyzed one of the dead nanites he'd collected from the investigation a few days ago. He had no luck reactivating it, but that wasn't to say he made no progress whatsoever. Prior to this mission, he gave a report that explained how they could potentially detect the nanites with short-range external sensors should the need arise. Unfortunately, there wasn't any noticeable way to detect them from a greater distance.

Wesley had to be monitored by Dr. Crusher following the procedure, and Nelson offered to help. The lad appeared perfectly healthy, save for the unexpected alteration to his neural pathways. Not even Dr. Sareme could explain it. That critical head injury which caused irreversible damage to a part of Wesley's brain healed within only a few hours, and the rest of the damage to his cerebral nerve clusters were being repaired by the nanites replacing them with cybernetic alternatives. Why was that possibly bad?

Nelson only programmed them to heal the neural tissue, not replace it.

"Lieutenant Nelson," Data's voice echoed over the comm just as Nelson looked into a microscope. Rather than look away and potentially lose his track of thought, he answered with a simple "I'm here," as he continued to increase the focus on one particular part of the dead nanite on his sample slide. "I require your assistance on the surface. Report to Transporter Room Two as soon as you are able."

Barely able to withhold a sigh, Nelson finally looked up and answered, "I'm on my way." He slapped his comm badge to cut the link and stood. With one last longing look at the microscope, and more specifically the nanite he'd been studying, he grabbed a tricorder off the table and started off toward his new destination.

Back on the surface, Data started to reach for his tricorder when he realized a metal pole had been thrown at him. With lightning-fast reflexes, he caught the bar and examined it.

"Nice catch," a human female exclaimed from afar with a smile. "Wonderful reflexes."

Data looked up and raised an eyebrow. He didn't know what to make of it.

"Sorry to test you like that - but I was curious," she explained as she approached.

"It was not your intention to damage me?" Data inquired, somewhat confused.

"Oh. Oh no." The woman quickly took on a more apologetic tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"There is no need to apologize." Data lowered the iron rod and let it fall to the ground. It didn't seem to be important anyway. "You are Ard'rian McKenzie, are you not?"

"Yes!" Ard'rian admitted with a big, excited grin. "How did you know?"

"I downloaded the entire colonial manifest before I arrived."

"Wow." Ard'rian's eyes grew wider as she stepped in closer. "Just how much data can you store in your memory banks?"

Data opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short. He often answered in far more detail than most humans thought necessary. If his interactions with other - more organic - lifeforms were to improve, he'd have to start by correcting that particular shortcoming.

"My memory capacity is more than sufficient to handle such information." Even though he succeeded, part of him wondered if he couldn't have condensed that even further. "You are the cyberneticist who once worked with Commander Maddox."

"Yes." This time, there was no enthusiasm in her voice. Ard'rian even looked somewhat embarrassed or ashamed that she knew more than just the name. "We worked together at the Daystrom Institute of Technology." She shook her head and crossed her arms. "I guess you also know we were going to get married."

"Indeed," Data acknowledged with clearly piqued curiosity. "Commander Maddox has indicated to me in our correspondence that he 'wished things had turned out differently'." The android briefly struggled to paraphrase. "I believe he misses you."

"Well, he can forget it. I'm not going back." Ard'rian briefly looked away and added, "Not after what he tried to do to you."

Her reaction elicited Data to tilt his head slightly, as if he were trying to make sense of what she said. Human emotions, especially concerning relationships, were complex. With little personal experience in this particular field, Data filed a mental note that he'd have to try having an intimate relationship some day. In theory, perhaps he could better learn how to sympathize and understand how humans and other organic species reacted when it came to their own, complicated webs of relationships.

"It was not his intention to hurt you." Data's brief defense of Maddox's actions several months ago drew surprise from Ard'rian, who looked at him in disbelief. "I have since been holding regular correspondence with him. In a recent letter, he apologized for his assumption that I was not alive. His only intention was to provide Starfleet with a series of androids that could withstand the kind of situations that would otherwise endanger other lifeforms. When he realized I was sapient, he agreed not to build any more androids for forced servitude. On the contrary, he promised to give them a choice."

"He-" Ard'rian had trouble speaking at first. "He promised, did he?"

"Yes," Data answered with a subtle nod.

It caught Ard'rian off-guard. She let out a sigh and wandered over to the stone fountain in the center of the empty plaza, where she leaned up against the edge. For a while, she appeared content to stand there absorbed in her own thoughts. But when Data again approached, she looked over at him and gave a soft smile.

"I'm sorry. I guess the reason I left him was because of his... incessant need to treat you like a simple tool - a chance for him to make a name for himself. I tried to talk him out of it, but he refused to listen." Again, she turned away, a distant look in her eye. "He was so caught up in his ideas that he ignored basic human compassion."

Data raised an eyebrow. "It has been my experience that many organic species do not consider inorganic lifeforms a form of 'life'. I do not believe they can be faulted for this misconception. However, I am certain they can be educated otherwise."

With a brief chuckle, Ard'rian nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." After swallowing the lump that had grown in her throat, she stood up straight and faced Data once again. "So... how can I help you?"

"Counselor Troi is attempting to convince Gosheven that he must prepare the colony for evacuation. However, he might prefer to hear the arguments from someone he is more familiar with."

"Well," Ard'rian started with a roll of her eyes. She had decided to begin walking slowly but surely in the direction of her lab, arms crossed and head slightly lowered. "I'm willing to talk to him, but I don't think he'll take me seriously." With distaste evident in her tone, she explained, "He finds me attractive - but I'm not interested in him at all. So he belittles me to protect his ego."

"Then you believe our suggested course of action should be followed?"

"Of course." Ard'rian looked as though she couldn't believe Data had asked such a question. "You're an android. A computer. People can be selfish, irrational, stubborn, malicious - you name it. But computers don't have those failings."

Following her logic, Data extrapolated the rest of her premise: "You conclude from this that I am impartial... hence you accept my recommendations."

Again, Ard'rian nodded. For a brief moment, she shared a look with Data.

Then Data's comm badge trilled, and he quickly tapped it to respond. "Data here."

"The Cardassians won't bargain." Picard's voice uttered from the other side.

"Understood," Data acknowledged before Picard continued.

"Transport won't arrive for another week at least. Get those enhancers in place. We may have to move quickly."

"Yes, sir," Data again acknowledged. Ard'rian looked confused.

"Enhancers?" She inquired. "You're hiding transporter enhancers around the colony?"

Realizing Ard'rian already overheard Picard's orders, given no doubt because the captain believed Data would be working alone in the alleys between buildings, Data decided he couldn't keep it a secret. So he confirmed her suspicions, and she seemed concerned.

"If security finds you-"

"Then I would likely be arrested and detained."

Ard'rian bowed her head again and considered their options. When it seemed clear that Data, unaccustomed as he was to stealth, wouldn't be likely to complete his task, she took him by the arm and guided him toward her lab. "Don't worry," she elaborated as they walked briskly across the cobblestone path. "I may have a way to make your job faster - and safer."

* * *

Gosheven looked over the reports his subordinates sent to his office. Several of the former soldiers from other wars and those militia who survived the attacks on Salva years ago had submitted plans for an organized resistance in case the Cardassians arrived. Personally, he didn't have any faith in Picard's ability to negotiate with them. They were brutal and heartless, while Picard appeared too stringent and uncompromising in his belief that peace could be attained without resorting to violence. Rather than confront the captain about their differences, however, he chose to ignore all incoming hails and focus on preparing for the inevitable Cardassian invasion.

The door to the corridor outside hissed open, momentarily drawing his attention away from the reports. Flanked by one of his guards, a beautiful woman in Starfleet attire stepped in, her hands behind her back and a brilliant smile plastered on her lips.

"Uh-" Gosheven began to stammer, but soon caught himself. He stood and welcomed her in with as much 'sincerity' as he could muster. "Come in, come in. I, uh... I didn't expect visitors."

Deanna Troi merely thanked him for the invitation and sat down in a chair across from him. She observed him intently, taking note of the many PADDs on his desk and the sleepless look in his eye. Clearly, he spent more time on running the colony than was otherwise healthy. She could even sense the stress he was under.

"Gosheven," she began by letting him know he could skip the introduction. "My name is Deanna Troi. I'm the counselor aboard the Enterprise."

Her revelation made Gosheven frown and eye her with a hint of suspicion. "Captain Picard sent you, didn't he?" Before Troi could respond, he incredulously shook his head. "Look, I already told him we weren't leaving."

"Why not?" Troi asked, genuinely interested in hearing his side of the story.

"Look around you." Gosheven gestured to the entirety of the room, though Troi didn't so much as glance at her surroundings. "We built this with our own sweat and blood. This entire colony - this city - belongs to us! We're not simply going to abandon it."

"Didn't your ancestors build this colony?" Troi cleverly inquired. But that didn't deter Gosheven, who simply smiled and nodded.

"Yes. And that's exactly why it belongs to us." Such an answer belied what Troi had learned about humanity in the centuries preceding first contact with the Vulcans. "We've earned the right to claim this world because it belonged to our parents, and their parents before them."

"I'm half-Betazoid," Troi preceded her next few words with that statement, as if it made a difference. "But my father was human. I had the opportunity to study Earth's history while I was at the Academy... and I can tell you what your belief sounds like. At one time, humanity had been divided into different nations - different cultures. And while we accept those differences now, in those days, they didn't know how to overcome them. So, afraid they would lose their own unique ways of life, they claimed the accomplishments of their ancestors as their own.

"But do you know what happened to those accomplishments?" She could tell Gosheven had become quite irritated at the speech, but in her opinion, some anvils needed to be dropped. It was necessary to get him to question his own self-destructive beliefs. "Many were destroyed. Those nations fought terrible wars with one another. Some couldn't even protect their relics, and since they couldn't trust anyone else to protect them, they let their ancestors' accomplishments be destroyed - all because they didn't know when to let go. Now isn't it possible you're about to make the same mistake?"

At first, it appeared that Gosheven would simply lean over his desk and brood for a minute. However, he unexpectedly slammed a fist into his desk and looked up at her. She didn't need to use her empathic powers to realize he was full of conviction toward his cause. Suddenly, she began to realize convincing him wouldn't be easy.

"This was one of the first colonies the Federation built this close to Cardassian space. Our ancestors were the first to fight against them. My grandfather's buried on the mountain overlooking this city!" He straightened himself and glared daggers at Troi. "If we don't follow in their footsteps, if we don't kill every last Cardie that steps foot on this planet, we'll be throwing away their sacrifice! Mark my words, counselor-" He narrowed his eyes. "We will stay. We will fight. And we will die if need-be. But we won't just abandon everything our families worked for."

It was then that Troi realized she wouldn't be getting through to him - not in the short bout of time they had. She would have to try another tactic.

* * *

Picard paced rapidly back and forth in his ready room. The Cardassians were swiftly approaching, and he couldn't raise them on subspace again. His options limited, time swiftly beginning to run out, he feared there was only one option left.

That's when Riker entered, concerned for his captain's state of mind. He'd been called to Picard's office mere moments ago. "Yes, sir?"

"The Cardassians won't agree to extend our deadline." Picard uttered his thoughts aloud as if he hadn't even heard the Commander. "If they won't give us the time we need..."

"... then we'll have to step in and make the time," Riker concluded, to which Picard grimly nodded and faced him. "We're going to intercept three Cardassian cruisers."

"I'm afraid so," Picard confirmed. They both knew what that could mean, however. Even if the Enterprise were to somehow survive, they'd single-handedly reignite the Federation-Cardassian War that had long since been in decline before they got here. "Counselor Troi and Mr. Data are on the surface investigating Gul Hanno's claim that the colony is a Federation listening post. I contacted Starfleet, but they won't give me a straight answer." Again, he began to pace, his arms behind his back. "They don't acknowledge its existence, but they don't deny it either."

"That doesn't sound much like the Starfleet I know."

"Indeed," Picard agreed as he slowed to a stop near his replicator at the other end of the room, his arms now crossed in front of him. "Something more is going on here than I think we realize, and Starfleet Command isn't being particularly forthcoming with information. How is Geordi and Chief O'Brien's progress on the transporters coming along?"

"Not good." That wasn't the news Picard wanted to hear, but it was hard not to expect it. Quite literally, he'd asked two officers to carry out a task that he knew was impossible. He just didn't want to believe it. "They nearly burned out every transporter on the ship trying."

After a moment's consideration, Picard gave Riker a decisive look. "Ready the ship for saucer separation. You'll stay with the saucer section and tend to matters here."

"Captain-" Riker stepped in front of Picard before he could leave. It had been a long time since he last objected an order from his commanding officer, but it seemed he had more than enough cause to do so again now. "Maybe you should stay with the saucer section. I can take command of the hull and deal with the Cardassians."

"You haven't requested I stay behind on a mission like this in ages," Picard noted with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Old habits," Riker confirmed with a grin, but that soon faltered as he got serious again. "Captain, you've always been the voice of reason. Gosheven and those people down there need that more than ever. But I've served with you long enough to know what you expect. I promise I'll handle the situation with a cool head and an open mind. Trust me." Again, he smiled. "I'll get us back in one piece."

With a deep breath, Picard nearly dismissed his first officer's opinion... but then he wearily nodded, acquiescing to Riker's suggestion with only a smile. Knowing when he'd been dismissed, Riker returned the nod respectfully and left to take command of that part of the ship which had gone underutilized in the past year and a half. It was time to see what she was made of.

* * *

"We can access this district's security grid from here." Ard'rian quickly made her way to a console on the other side of the room. It was a fairly large chamber with several different monitors and computer systems all presumably involved in security. What surprised Data was that nobody appeared to be on duty.

"Ard'rian," the android began. "Are there not supposed to be security guarding this area?"

"You'd be surprised how lax we are with our security measures," Ard'rian responded with a brief laugh. She continued to type something into the console. "Besides, nobody's supposed to be able to get past that forcefield beyond the door. Only security personnel know how, and they're too tightly-knit a group to start distrusting each other."

Data raised an eyebrow and approached, until he stood at her side eying the computer with equal interest. "How is it you acquired the codes to bypass the forcefield and redirect the sensors of the security grid?"

To that, Ard'rian frowned and finished gaining access to the console's operating system. "Let's just say-" She stood up straight and faced Data with an expression which belied her mixed emotions on the matter. "I had a relationship with Gosheven shortly after moving here."

"Ah," Data exclaimed, believing he'd figured out what she meant by comparing her statement to similar ones made by his colleagues aboard the Enterprise. "So he willingly shared the codes with you to show trust."

"Not... exactly." Ard'rian turned to hide her guilt. She stepped away from the console and wrapped her arms in front of her. "He wanted to arrest an old friend of mine who'd just arrived on the colony. I broke into his office and stole the code from his computer."

It wasn't exactly a situation Data heard about often, and certainly not one he had any personal experience in. None of his colleagues aboard the Enterprise did such things, but then again, it was highly unlikely they would tell him if they did. What he couldn't entirely understand was why anyone would deliberately subvert the law. His experiences at the Academy taught him the importance of rules and regulations, and he witnessed such behavior among the colonists at Omicron Theta.

"What you did was a felony under Federation law." Data put a hand on the console beside him and looked at Ard'rian inquisitively. "What prompted your decision?"

"Love, mostly. She'd been like a sister to me all my life. Gosheven thought she'd been part of some sinister plot by Starfleet to oust him." Ard'rian only smiled as tears began to well up in her eyes. "I guess... there are some human behaviors even I can't shake."

Data tried to process that for a moment, but finally admitted he might not have the time to do so effectively. So, he filed it away for later study and turned to work on the console. He redirected several sensors so they wouldn't pay close attention to the locations where he'd directed the members of his team to set the enhancers. As he worked, Ard'rian turned to watch him, a sad and distant look in her eye.

Little did they know, they were being closely watched from outside the door. They'd learn that particular fact as soon as it opened, and somebody stepped through holding a phaser. Before Data could even get a good look at the unexpected intruder, a phaser beam struck him in the back, and he lurched forward, hitting the console and slumping to the floor - dead or unconscious, nobody would know. Ard'rian shouted a loud "no" and tried to catch Data as he fell, but she was hit by another beam fired from the same source. Their attacker stepped in and allowed the door to close behind him.

It was Hurak, and he eyed Ard'rian with particular interest. Once he lowered the phaser and approached the security console, he activated the transporter inhibitor field around the colony. With that done, he looked down at Ard'rian and Data - and then he kneeled down beside the former. Carefully, he reached out and pressed his fingers against either side of her head and bowed his own, eyes closed and mind focused.

"My mind to your mind... my thoughts to your thoughts..."

* * *

"Ready for saucer separation," Riker noted on the viewscreen, to which Picard acknowledged. As the ship began to separate, the 'neck' of the hull section disengaging from the saucer itself, the first officer could see the look in his captain's eyes, even though said eyes would engaged with the console on his armrest at the moment. "Don't worry, captain." Riker's attempt to assuage Picard's fears drew his superior's attention. "We'll do everything we can."

A deep breath, followed by release, and Picard would respond sternly: "See to it, commander." Then, with a nod to Lieutenant Anderson at tactical, he had the comm link cut. Saucer separation completed in less than two minutes, and the captain let out a subtle sigh of relief. As he watched the hull section turn away and fly in the direction of the approaching enemy, Picard hoped this situation could be resolved without bloodshed.

Then, the comm on the tactical console chirped. Worf left with Riker in case the situation with the Cardassians got too dicey. Here, at least, they wouldn't have to face off against any military vessels. Even had the colonists decided to turn on the Enterprise, they certainly didn't have the technology on their planet to take on a ship as well-fortified as a Galaxy-class starship. So Lieutenant Anderson, a lovely young lady who reminded Picard of Tasha Yar, remained behind to take Worf's place.

"Hail from the colony, sir," Anderson reported as she read what was on her display. "From a Mr. Gosheven."

"On-screen." Picard slowly lifted himself up on to his feet and watched as the image of the colonial governor's face appeared. Unlike their last encounter, however, Gosheven appeared furious. It wouldn't take long before he'd find out why.

"Captain, this is an outrage! We found one of your officers in one of our security facilities!" Gosheven narrowed his eyes. "He claims he was attacked by a stranger. We found him lying on the ground nearby. He's a Vulcan your officer identified as 'Hurak'... another one of your crew?" Before Picard could get a word in edgewise, Gosheven furiously continued. "I don't believe him. One of our colonists was there, and she claims both of them took her hostage. The security grid had been tampered with, and she claims your people hid transport enhancers throughout the colony!"

"Governor, if I could explain-"

"You can't, don't even try!" Gosheven scowled. "We've deactivated the enhancers. Take your officer and leave. If you don't, we'll have to take more... drastic... measures."

For what felt like an all-too-common occurrence today, the comm link was broken before Picard could respond. But rather than dwell on that, he found himself wondering what either of his crew were doing on the surface taking a hostage. Especially Hurak.

"Lieutenant," Picard turned and addressed Anderson. "Have Mr. Keenan run a security check on all transport systems. Make sure all shuttlecraft are accounted for. I need to know who authorized Hurak's departure to the surface and how."

"Aye, sir." Anderson input the appropriate commands and let an uncomfortable silence fall over the room. With that, Picard steadied himself and gave one long, last look at the viewscreen. It looked like matters here wouldn't remain peaceful after all.

* * *

"Commander, we have the Cardassian ships on visual," Worf reported from the tactical station on the battle bridge. It was a fairly cramped space, one which made the Klingon somewhat irritable, although he felt its spartan interior would make any Klingon captain prefer this bridge to the overlit, spacious primary.

"Open hailing frequencies." A chime from Worf's console answered Riker, who addressed Gul Hanno: "This is Commander William Riker of the Starship Enterprise."

The image on the viewscreen shifted from the Galor-class ships to the interior bridge of the one commanded by Gul Hanno, a scowl on her face. No doubt she realized what the hull section of the Enterprise separated from the saucer had meant. They were planning on challenging her and the other two ships at her command.

"What do you want?"

"We want you to halt your approach and give us enough time to evacuate our colonists."

"Did you not hear what I told your captain?" Hanno narrowed her eyes. "This colony just appeared on our sensors. It's clearly one of your intelligence-gathering outposts!"

"One of our officers is on the surface investigating that possibility," Riker confirmed. "But we need time. No more than a week."

"A week?" Hanno scoffed. "Commander, even you can't be foolish enough to think we'd believe anything you discover. For all I know, you were sent by your Starfleet Intelligence to cover for them!"

"I can assure you that isn't the case." Riker's expression soured. "But if there is something going on, we'll get to the bottom of it."

"That is unacceptable," Hanno stated in no uncertain terms. "Move aside, Commander. Don't make me regret this."

In moments like these, Riker presumed, the captain would continue to try and negotiate. Of course, he wasn't Picard, but that man wrote the book on this ship. Now standing at a crossroad, Riker knew whatever decision he'd make would have lasting consequences. Three against one, and not even the battle-ready hull of the Enterprise could survive. Yet if he stood aside, as Gul Hanno 'suggested', the Cardassians would arrive at the colony and potentially ransack it without a second thought.

"Gul Hanno," Riker began with his response, fully understanding the consequences of his decision here and now. "Allow us to escort you to the colony."

At first, Hanno looked rather surprised, but suspicion crept through and she asked, "Why?"

"Because this war's been going on for long enough." Riker knew too many comrades - many of whom he met through the Academy in his younger years - who lost their lives in this pointless war with Cardassia. It was time it ended. But more importantly, he knew who Hanno was and what she had done at Setlik III. She went on record as opposing the attack, and her words to the one responsible were harsh and critical. "Neither of us wants more blood on our hands. It would just reignite this war."

The Cardassian contemplated that for a moment, and finally acquiesced. "You've caught me at a disadvantage, Commander." She wondered, "How can I know you're not simply bargaining for your life?"

"We'd gladly give our lives if it meant saving all those people on our colony." Those words particularly made Worf feel a measure of pride serving aboard this ship, and it showed in the way he straightened up and faced the viewscreen with a determined look. "But this war won't be over until we can learn to trust one another."

That gave her pause, however briefly. "Commander, I don't want to see this pointless war reignited any more than you do. But there's no good reason why the Federation would hide a colony so close to our space. Why should we trust you?"

"Because we're about to trust you." Riker stood from his chair and stepped up closer to the viewscreen, fully understanding the kind of effect it would give on the Cardassian's viewscreen. "If there /is/ anything illegal happening on that planet, we want to know as much as you do. And I think you and I both know the effects of our actions here and now won't end with just us. If we don't start trusting each other, we risk undermining everything our two governments are working toward. Can you afford that risk?"

For a brief minute, Hanno appeared unable to think of a good counter-argument. Her family used to debate at dinner - a fine Cardassian tradition kept strong by her Inquisitor father. Yet even he taught them how to concede a debate when an opponent had the stronger argument. If Hanno ended up being responsible for reigniting this destructive war with the Federation, she'd undoubtedly be court-marshaled and her career ruined, and the families she'd be pulling apart would make sure of that. But more importantly, she'd be making the same mistake her former groom had made.

"We'll accept your terms," Hanno preluded the rest of her answer. "But we expect your people not to interfere with ours in this investigation. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly. You're welcome to accompany our officers in their investigation," Riker iterated with a frown. "Just tell them not to shoot first and ask questions later."

Hanno frowned and nodded gently. "We'll see, Commander."

* * *

"I don't know how he got down there."

Chief O'Brien sat at one side of the conference room table at an equal level to Picard and Geordi. His superiors looked at him with more concern than suspicion. Only minutes ago, Lieutenant Keenan reported finding that O'Brien's transporter codes had been used to beam Hurak to the surface near Data's position. Since Hurak was a civilian, they had no idea how he could've discovered O'Brien's personal security code. It would've taken a determined and expert hacker to access that information from the ship's computer. What's worse, the computer believed he'd been in his quarters the whole time. Clearly, there was some sort of malfunction or manipulation.

But by who?

"Mr. O'Brien," Picard began with his hands crossed together in front of him on the table. "All we know at the moment is that somebody used your security code to access the transporter systems. We're not accusing you of anything. Now, Mr. LaForge-" He eyed Geordi, who returned the look. "If computer records were altered or erased... can you restore them?"

"It's possible, captain," Geordi confirmed, which seemed to sit well with the captain. However, as he continued, things turned out not to be so simple. "But it would require some kind of slip-up on the part of the intruder. Considering the level of detail provided by the computer, I don't see how that's possible."

"So, we're left with only evidence pointing to Mr. O'Brien," Picard dismally mused. As he peered over to his transporter chief, he briefly wondered if there could be any truth to what the computer recorded. But he knew, deep down, that he couldn't afford to think that way. All they had to go by was from a single source: the computer. They needed more. "I have difficulty putting faith in one man's - or one computer's - word. But it does seem there's more going on here than we've been led to believe."

"Captain," O'Brien finally spoke up again. "I knew Hurak. Not personally, but by reputation. He was one of the assistants of a Vulcan ambassador we were transporting aboard the Rutledge to a conference on Tellar. The ambassador said he was very dedicated to his work. Now I can't imagine why he'd want to beam down to the surface. But I do know that he'd never do anything without a purpose."

"We all have reasons for what we do," Picard began. "But that doesn't explain why he would choose to beam down to this particular planet."

"Hurak's family are safe on Vulcan," Geordi concurred. "He never fought in the Federation-Cardassian War or knew anyone who had. Even if he did, someone in as public a position as his couldn't keep something like that a secret."

"Unless there were people he was meeting behind closed doors," O'Brien noted.

Picard nodded once and added, "For the time being, all we have is speculation and not enough evidence. I'll have Dr. Crusher keep an eye on Hurak's status until he recovers." Then he took a deep breath and sighed. "That leaves me with two choices. Either I lock down all transporter rooms for the time being, which would mean leaving the colonists down there to die... or I leave them open, risking another incident like this one."

"Captain." This time, O'Brien's voice took on an air of desperation. "You can't let what I supposedly did condemn those people down there. I fought the Cardassians. I've seen what sort of things they'll do to people. They shouldn't be punished for something that isn't their fault. Not like that." His expression took on a more solemn air. "Nobody deserves that kind of fate."

"And you believe Gul Hanno will allow that?" Picard carefully inquired.

"Which one? Jagul or Lethra?" O'Brien looked away. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway."

"Weren't they the ones who issued a formal apology after Setlik III?" Geordi asked, glancing at Picard for confirmation.

"Indeed. We've just encountered Jagul's niece, Lethra." Picard turned to O'Brien. "If memory serves, wasn't Lethra working with the Cardassian Information Service?"

"It doesn't matter," O'Brien insisted with an uncharacteristically angry tone. "She was with Dal Enkoa at Setlik. She's just as guilty as he is."

"Enkoa?" LaForge once again had to look to Picard for answers.

"The Cardassian officer responsible for the attack on Setlik." After that brief explanation, Picard returned to addressing O'Brien, who now looked increasingly distressed. "You were the tactical officer aboard the Rutledge at the time, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Did you see Lethra take part in the operation?"

O'Brien thought back to it, then meekly shook his head.

After a moment, Picard nodded and thanked O'Brien for his time before dismissing him. This had prompted Picard to weight his options even more carefully than before. However, Geordi stayed, letting O'Brien know he'd catch up with him in a bit. They just sat there in silence, Picard deep in thought while LaForge could only watch in concern.

"He has the alibi," Picard admitted distastefully to himself. O'Brien's witness of the massacre at Setlik III and his long-standing hatred of the Cardassians gave him more than ample enough reason to try and help the colonists stay and fight. "Hurak's assault on Data and the colonist suggests he was trying to disrupt our plan to evacuate the colonists. The real question is why? Why would he want to interefere?"

"I don't know," Geordi humbly stated. "But I know that Chief O'Brien really believes the war with Cardassia will never end."

"That's what worries me." Picard sat back in his chair with a look of exasperation. This whole incident clearly exhausted him, and if Dr. Crusher were here, she'd probably demand he get some rest. Lucky for them, she was too preoccupied. "If Mr. O'Brien thought that Hurak could somehow help the colony defend themselves, he could have activated the transporter that sent Hurak to the surface. But that's merely speculation. I won't condemn a man based on a single witness."

"The way I see it, you have two choices." Geordi frowned, no less agitated that he couldn't offer any other solutions. "You can either have O'Brien confined to quarters, depriving our plan of the only man who knows these transporter systems inside and out. Or, you can leave O'Brien to work on the project and risk another incident. Either way, this project's gone south, captain. The colony's already activated a dispersal field over the city. It would take too long to find a way past it, even with the chief."

For a moment, it seemed like Picard wouldn't say anything. Everything about this mission felt wrong, and they both knew it. But when he spoke, it was on a separate matter.

"How's Data doing?"

"He took a little damage." Geordi leaned against the table. "Luckily, the phaser was set to stun. I guess Hurak or whoever attacked them planned to take them alive."

"So why didn't they?" Picard asked rhetorically. "Why leave behind three unconscious individuals who were witness to the attack?"

Geordi slowly shook his head. "I don't know, captain." Then he creased his brow and looked as if he gazed at a distant object only he could see. "But if I were in the governor's position, and somebody wanted to take me away from everything I knew and loved - I'd do everything I can to make sure they wouldn't succeed."

Again, silence. Picard couldn't help but ponder the strange circumstance. Three individuals with nothing in common, each found in a security center in the city. One, an officer of his crew; another, a civilian with no ties to the war; and finally, a colonist.

"Geordi," Picard turned to his Chief Engineer and asked, "What do we know about the colonist Hurak and Data were found with?"

"Ard'rian," Geordi indirectly confirmed he knew exactly who she was. "She was an assistant to Commander Maddox in the cybernetics division at the Daystrom Institute. She left Earth about a year ago after a disagreement with him. Last recorded, she was living on Panora with a friend, a woman named Kalita and her two-month old son. About three months ago, they disappeared along with the other colonists after a skirmish nearby. Starfleet assumed they were taken prisoner."

"Starfleet assumed this sector had been abandoned." Picard hated sitting there in comfort as the images in his mind reminded him that there were people down there who fought and died for the past three years without Starfleet to protect them - and for nearly a generation before then. So, as if to ease his conscience a little, he stood, tugged at his shirt, and wandered over to the window looking out at the planet. "So many years out here on the frontier, with few of the resources we take for granted. It's hard to imagine what they must have went through."

"Fighting was so intense in this sector, Starfleet didn't really have time to check every single planet out here. And if what you said about the colony being cloaked this entire time was true, I don't see how we could've found it before now."

Picard narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the planet. "Must the people perish, or the Prince abandon a treaty?" he muttered, rather out of earshot of Geordi. But when he spoke again, it was such that the only other one in the room could hear him. "I refuse to believe the Federation would abandon their own people in a time of war." He faced LaForge, arms still held firmly to his side. "Somebody on that colony has access to a cloaking system that could mask the city from sensors for over a year. Why? And how did this cyberneticist turn up after the colony was supposedly cloaked?"

Geordi could only respond with a frown.

When he straightened up, Picard ordered, "Mr. LaForge, I want Data fixed. I need him and counselor Troi to continue their investigation. Dismissed." After a brief nod, Geordi stood and started to leave, but not before Picard got in one more 'word': "And tell Chief O'Brien to keep working on the transporters. We can't afford to start distrusting one another."

One more nod, and Geordi had left. All Picard did then was turn and look back out the window, his arms clasped behind him as he did so. They'd have to work fast to uncover this mystery for what it truly was before this situation grew even more dire than it already was. With any luck, Data would get to the bottom of this.

Then he could follow doctor's orders and take that long-needed break of his.

* * *

Gosheven glared at the tactical readout on the wall behind his desk. It showed the results of long-range scans, including the three Cardassian ships they detected nearly three days ago. However, this time, they detected a Federation warp signature apparently escorting the Cardassian vessels. He grit his teeth. So the Federation had planned to abandon them all along. Then the comm hummed in his ear piece.

"She's here," a male voice explained. Gosheven turned back around and sat down at his desk before telling his guard to let her in. By the time the doors opened, he'd be furiously transfixed to counselor Troi as she stepped through. No doubt she could sense his anger, such that it was - a feeling of being betrayed. But then again, he knew this would happen from the moment he spoke to Troi. The Federation lived in paradise. But it was easy to be a saint in paradise. Out here, they had to fight to protect what they had.

"So, counselor," Gosheven began without even offering her a seat. "Your captain failed to mention he was working with the Cardassian government."

"That's not true," Troi exclaimed as she slowly approached. "Commander Riker-"

"Riker?" Gosheven's eyes widened in realization. Then his expression turned even more sour, if that was even possible. "I should've known he'd do something like this."

"Like what?" Troi asked, genuinely confused.

"Since the minute he arrived, he's acted smug, superior - it's clear he's jealous of what we've accomplished here!" Gosheven sounded positively mad in more ways than one. However, Troi gently put a hand on the back of the chair across from his desk and waited patiently to hear the rest of his explanation. "He wouldn't even give me a straight answer."

"Has it ever occurred to you that he might know what he's doing?"

Gosheven scoffed. "Oh please, counselor. I know damn well that he knows what he's doing. He's going to destroy everything we worked for. My father-" He paused a moment to catch his breath, his speech growing more passionate by the minute. "My grandfather's buried on the mountain outside this city. He died along with my father and most of my family during the last attack on our colony. We're alive now because of their sacrifices. No matter how much you or Riker try, you won't bully us off this land."

For a moment, it seemed like Troi wouldn't say anything else. But then she asked the question that had been on her mind since the moment she found out:

"Did you know about the sensor cloak?" That elicited only a confused look from Gosheven, one genuine and matched by his emotions. Troi creased her brow in concern. "You don't know, do you?"

"What are you trying to say?" Gosheven asked in a cautionary tone.

"Did Starfleet really send you a signal to evacuate the planet a year ago?"

Gosheven pursed his lips a moment, bowed his head, and realized he couldn't keep a secret for long from this Betazoid. He wished he had thought of that before allowing her to speak with him.

"No," he confirmed what she'd already suspected. Troi responded by stepping up to his desk and putting one hand down on it in a fairly authoritative manner.

"Gosheven, you have to let me contact the Enterprise." Before he could protest, she added, "Your colony's been under a sensor cloak for three years. It's what prevented Starfleet from knowing you were out here. You need to let me speak with Captain Picard."

"Alright!" Gosheven held his hands up to his sides and stood, clearly not wishing to hear her nag at him any further. He stepped over to a panel next to the tactical readout and input his personal security code to override the communications scrambling field surrounding the city. "Try it now." He glanced over his shoulder when he finished.

Troi slapped her comm badge. "Troi to Captain Picard."

"Go ahead," Picard's voice came clearly through, to which Troi smiled in relief. But that smile was quickly replaced by a more serious expression as Gosheven turned to face her.

"Captain, Gosheven isn't aware his city's been cloaked the past three years."

"What?" Picard sounded understandably caught off-guard.

"He's telling the truth," Troi added as she gave Gosheven an apologetic look. "He's not responsible for the cloak."

"Counselor, are you sure?" Picard asked with uncertainty. "Could he be masking his true emotions or-"

Before the captain could continue, Gosheven hit a button on his desk and spoke out. "Every word I said to your counselor was true. I didn't know about any kind of cloaking device in the city." He frowned and looked back at Troi. "We don't even have that kind of equipment! At best, all we have is the standard fare provided by the Federation."

Silence, only for a moment, and then...

"Governor, where is your cyberneticist, Ard'rian?" Picard questioned.

Rather than answer immediately, Gosheven quickly hit a few buttons on the wall panel next to his small viewscreen, then looked at the result. It was a blueprint of the city with a grid overlay, but no blinking dots to indicate the person he'd just scanned for.

"I... don't know," Gosheven admitted with a stammer. "She's not on the security grid!"

"Governor, the Cardassians will be here in an hour." Picard's own admission arguably made them even, but it didn't make Gosheven any less uncomfortable. "We need to find Ard'rian before they arrive. She could be the key to unraveling this mystery."

"Fine. We'll help - on one condition." Gosheven found the opportunity to regain control of the situation, and he took it. "Do not allow a single Cardassian on the surface. The moment we see one, we will take it as an act of aggression. Is that clear?"

"Quite." Picard sounded displeased. "Picard out."

"Gosheven..." Troi started to admonish him softly, but he briefly shot an intimidating glare at her. When she started to back down, he softened a little, but he still appeared rather angry - mostly with himself, as far as Troi's empathic powers could determine.

"You have one hour to get to the bottom of this, counselor." Gosheven fell back into his seat behind his desk and looked up at her, exasperated. "Bring down whoever you need and figure this out." Before Troi could tap her badge again, however, he added, "But I'm assigning a security detail to you." Then he narrowed his eyes. "Don't try anything stupid."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : The only reason it isn't finished yet is that I hit a writer's block. While I have an idea for how Troi and Nelson could uncover the truth behind the conspiracy, I'm not entirely sure how I'd like to bring Riker and the Cardassians into the scenario, and I want to do more with O'Brien.

Although I'll probably come up with something sooner or later, I welcome any thoughts or suggestions in the reviews, as long as they're relevant.


End file.
